


We Spoke of Many Things

by clutzycricket



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crossover, F/M, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: The three children of Rhaegar Targaryen, dealing with Soulmate Issues and the hope of a happy ending.





	We Spoke of Many Things

**one.**

Rhaenys Targaryen, Princess of Summerhall, Eldest Child of the Silver Harper, Rhae Too-Sharp, Future Hand, and all-around busybody, was making herself useful.

In this situation, it involved bringing in a large jug of wine, cups, and a water flask.

“Father will have kittens,” she said, before collapsing on the armchair Jon had vacated. To help her place everything on the table.

He shot her a look, and she shrugged.

“Your cousin is the one who is causing this mess,” she said. “I brought honey tarts, they are...” She frowned, before pulling a slightly squashed sack from under her overskirt. “Here.” She also pulled an orange from... wherever she stashed the little knife Nymeria gave her for her tenth nameday, most likely. The nuts in the honey tarts tended to make her throat close up, so Jon didn’t offer to share.

“It isn’t her fault,” Jon said, absently. “Arya said Sansa loves lemon tarts, by the way.”

Aegon’s head perked up from his nest, dark blonde hair looking a bit like a bird’s nest. “I can get those. That is doable, Arianne said the shipments were going to be fine, and Mother loves them as well.”

* * *

 

“That’s sorted, now let’s deal with the fact that you and Sansa are matches,” Rhaenys said. “Which is a slightly larger issue, I must admit. Right now, no one else knows, but all it takes is one gossiping maid or irritated soul who wants to ally you to their family.”

“Sansa is a Lord Paramount’s daughter,” Aegon said, thoughtfully. He was making a small gesture that summoned a breeze, ruffling his hair and rustling the notes on the floor. “And closely related to two more. It would be... it could be useful, I think?”

 _Oh, dear_ , Rhaenys thought. Their parents were matched, and despite the Lyanna debacle, the King relied heavily on his Sun Queen in matters of diplomacy and daily court life. That being said, it was commonly suspected that they weren’t actually  _romantically_  matched, as rare as that was. Hence the Lyanna affair, and why Lady Ashara was never far from Mother’s side.

Somehow, Aegon never did seem to believe that. Her brother was prone to seeing nothing but the good in life.

She kept herself from fiddling with the collar of her gown and said, “It might work,” she said. “Father hasn’t actually approved any betrothals, aside from Viserys and Lady Shyra.”

And that had been because Lady Shyra was deeply in need of a spouse who could withstand her cousin, heir, and nightmare, Ser Sebastian.

Rhaenys was aware of the whispers about her own lack of a betrothal. Edmure Tully had been suggested, but he was far too... shallow and irresponsible. Which was a pity, because she deeply suspected the Riverlands would be... interesting in a few years. Highgarden was also out, both because Father wasn’t cruel enough to send her to live with Lady Olenna and because Lord Willas was fucking her uncle and aunt. Mother and Grandmother refused the Greyjoy idea, and Rhaenys had flatly refused Lord Tyrion (who had been terribly drunk, and she knew what Lord Tywin had done with his last gooddaughter, thanks to Varys), and the young Lord of the Vale. (Who was too arrogant and vain for anyone’s good, and he’d most likely not survive her cousins’ first visit.)

Most everyone else was too young, of too little consequence, or...

Well.

Jon, of course, was going to marry... some heiress who needed a strong sword hand and a refreshing lack of male pride. Or the Kingsguard, since he was actually very skilled with a blade and couldn’t speak to a lady without making a misstep.

Terribly.

Dany would most likely wed Baelor Hightower’s elder son, a lad who squired for Ser Uncle Lewyn and adored tales of valor and fairness as much as she did. Sarella suggested that the two would most likely open schools for smallfolk and try to send girls to the Citadel.

Aegon, however...

Well. There had been Lady Myrielle, who was Tywin Lannister’s niece, sharp and poisonous and surprisingly witty. Lady Margaery and her pack of cousins, which Aegon had told Father would not happen until they stopped trying to insult Mother and Rhaenys. (”My family is not a flaw to be forgiven, especially when the members in question did  _nothing_  to deserve it.”)

Lady Shireen, who was far too young, Lady Asha, who was brilliant but would hate court life, Brienne, who was so terribly unhappy that Rhaenys could not bring herself to regret her cousin marrying the second son of Lord Blackwood. Lady Allyria, who was rather too much like Mother for the court to easily accept. Lady Roslin Frey, sister to the lord of Rosby, which would cause too many problems.

Lady Jeyne Westerling had been an idea. The girl was sweet and inoffensive, clever and supportive. She had come to court to be one of Rhaenys’ companions, and if it wasn’t for the way the girl blushed whenever the Stark heir looked at her, it might have worked.

(Also, if Lady Westerling was suddenly and forcibly sent to the lands beyond Shivering Seas.)

There were still more girls hungry to be Princess of Dragonstone. And matches did not always equal a marriage. How could they, when you didn’t know who your match was until you touched? There were rare occasions when it worked- her parents, in a way, Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna, her uncle Oberyn and Ellaria, Lord and Lady Stark.

But there was also Grandmother Rhaella and Ser Bonifer, who were kept apart until Grandfather the King died.

“It would be a good way to show the kingdom that the Rebellion is in the past,” Rhaenys said, thoughtfully. “And reassure the southern kingdoms that the North and its allies will not try to rise for Jon.”

“I don’t want that to happen,” Jon Waters hit his head against the back of the dresser. “I really don’t. Rhae, pass the wine? I’m going to have to speak with Varys again when this comes out.”

“Better than Uncle Oberyn,” Aegon said. “And I don’t even know if Sansa will want to marry me.”

“She’s a sweet, innocent girl brought to the glamorous court, finds out her soul is paired with the Crown Prince, who is the sort of lad who cannot refuse a damsel in distress- which, I may add, meant that you once got a bloody crossbow bolt in your royal bum, and son of the glorious and kind Sun Queen, from which all charity flows,” Rhaenys said dryly. “Not to mention her fondness for songs, which I know after meeting her a week ago. I was tempted to send her to Arianne and keep her away from the vipers at court, but do you know what?”

“What?” Aegon said, grinning. “That she charms them all? That she has an uncanny ability to remember details? Rumors are already spreading that she’s the Maiden Incarnate? That she’s the opposite of...” He stopped. “Sorry, Jon.”

“It’s fine,” Jon said. “You stopped. And it’s... a little true.”

“You get your song, Aegon,” Rhaenys said, pouring herself a glass. 

“Can’t think of anyone who deserves it more,” Jon said, shooting her a look.

She kicked him.

**two.**

Aegon was  _laughing_.

He should have expected this. Jon had the worst luck, sometimes.

But really, Jon visiting the Wall was not a terrible idea. (And if he happened to take vows... Aegon would miss his brother, but it would also be a lot easier for everyone. Besides, his brother could summon ice with a thought. He wouldn’t mind the cold.)

When Jon went missing, Rhaenys’ hands had twisted over the letter until her knuckles went pale and the parchment was set to tear.

Thankfully, Jon was found within two weeks, and the king didn’t have to deal with his prickly eldest running North to find him. (There had been a small group willing to go North- Lady Jeyne, who was remarkably loyal to Rhaenys and also probably wishing to see Aegon’s soon-to-be goodbrother, Lady Lily Evans, daughter of a small keep in the Riverlands and as headstrong as Cousin Arianne, Nym, who didn’t trust Rhaenys not to forget her own safety, Lady Myri, who he wouldn’t mind going far away, and Ser Arys and Ser Oswell, who were sworn to protect the royal family. Ser Arys was also fairly dim and could be easily talked into anything. No one mentioned this to the King, though Mother was amused.)

There had been a wildling girl who Jon had dragged south, and who was staring at everything in surprise.

“Poor girl,” Sansa said, adjusting her curls. “Everyone is going to judge her, and she’s not dressed for the weather. You’d have thought that Jon would have gotten her something in White Harbor or Gullstown.” She looked again. “Or perhaps she threatened him for making her feel uncomfortable.”

Aegon thought about it. The wildling girl, whose hair was a brighter red then Sansa’s, was not a conventional beauty, not like Sansa or Arianne or even Lady Myrielle. Nor was she the arresting type that people said Rhaenys was.

But there was a definite spirit in her face, and Aegon was shocked to see his brother smiling at something she said.

Jon looking comfortable talking to a girl not Rhae, Dany, or his cousins was strange.

“Don’t the wildlings refuse to bow?” he said, suddenly. Sansa stopped walking, big blue eyes widening further.

“That,” she said, “might pose a problem. But I suspect that is why your mother insisted on the family meeting her privately.”

“This is true,” he said.

Even with his nerves over this, he still had to laugh when he saw the words scrawled over the tops of Jon’s shoulders.

“Did she really threaten to put an arrow...” he trailed off at Jon’s embarrassed look.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said. Then he paused. “Should I be worried that Yrgitte is with Rhae and Dany right now?”

Aegon raised an eyebrow. “Rhaenys already knows how to use a bow, though Grandmother might be irritated if Dany suddenly starts threatening her admirers.”

Jon shrugged. “Well, if she has to threaten them in wildling fashion, then clearly the guards aren’t doing their jobs.”

This... was probably true.

**three.**

Jon suspected that Rhaenys had actually met her match years before. It explained how she was able to deal with both of her younger sibling's courtships, Viserys’ marriage, and the betrothal of Dany and the Hightower boy without bitterness. Not to mention Lady Jeyne finally heading north to marry Robb.

(Ygritte and Myrielle, in a strange and terrifying way, had combined their talents to help terrorize the nobles out of being too overtly nasty about Rhaenys being unmarried. It had been the catalyst for Ygritte’s acceptance into the family.

“She doesn’t act like one of the fancy folk who are all frills and fuss,” Ygritte shrugged. “She likes pretty silk dresses and that stitchwork, but the work is nice and she’s kind.” Ygritte grinned. “Tongue like a dagger when she’s mad, though.”)

“Who could it be, though?” Dany asked. They’d settled in the Godswood, which was rarely inhabited. Cool, since winter was coming in, but pleasant enough for now. “It isn’t one of the people she turned down, I think.”

“No, she and Theon Greyjoy never actually met,” Jon agreed. “And Grandmother would have pushed for it if it was one of the others.”

“Perhaps Asha Greyjoy?” Dany said. “Or Lady Myrielle? They are terribly close, and it would explain why she never pushed to marry.”

“She’d marry Lord Renly and they’d take their lovers with them everywhere,” Jon pointed out.

“She loathes Renly,” Dany protested. “Lady Lily is happily wed, and Quentyn is marrying the girl from Dorne... Andrey Dalt, perhaps? She thinks that he’s one of the most sensible people she’s ever met, and she doesn’t compliment people lightly.” Dany beamed. “Actually, Rhaegar might approve of the match, with the rest of us marrying so.”

“He was thinking about offering for Strongboar,” Jon said glumly. “I think he wants to tie down the West somehow.”

Dany blinked. “There are maidens who would be happy to marry him,” she said, voice very reasonable in a way that made the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck rise, “Rhaenys is not one of them. They’d be miserable, and surely Rhaegar realizes that.”

“He’s also debating releasing Ser Jaime from his vows,” Jon added, remembering the way his sister’s lips had thinned and her chin went up, “If he marries Rhaenys.”

“Ser Jaime doesn’t want to be released from his vows,” Dany protested. “He’s the one who keeps saying the Kingsguard serve for life! He’d hate Rhae because of this!”

“I know,” Jon said, settling back against the weirwood. “But I don’t have a plan except for finding someone Rhae would like. Humphrey Hightower would be a plan, except Father would never agree.”

“Are we merely going to go through every possible lordling in the Seven Kingdoms?” she said. “I know my brother doesn’t want Rhaenys to leave, which caused half the problem. Perhaps asking Rhaenys would be the best...” She trailed off. If Rhaenys was refusing to step forward with a name, then they wouldn’t convince her.

There was a rustling in the wood, and Dany grinned and climbed a tree, disappearing in a flash of grey skirts and pale braid. Jon hid behind the trunk.

“Sirius,” said Rhaenys, sounding... well, sounding sad and sweet, “correct me if I’m wrong, but our original reasons for not pushing for a marriage still stand?”

“Yes,” said the heir to Stargazer Keep, and Jon looked around the tree to see him, arm around Rhaenys’ waist, “but that was before you were named Princess of Summerhall and your father decided to make you fair game for every fortune hunter in the kingdoms.” He barked a laugh. “Or do you forget that hedge knight who tried to ride you and Lily down a moon ago?”

“I shot him,” Rhaenys protested, and how did Jon never hear about this?

“You also had to heal where he stabbed you,” Sirius pointed out. “If Moony and James hadn’t been there...”

“I’m fine,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And I’m slightly more worried about you being summoned home to find some purely Andal girl waiting in a sept and your mother holding a sword to your back.”

“So I won’t go home,” he said. “Easily done, since I was already planning on that.”

“Do you really think Father would give permission?” she said. 

“I could promise to give up rights to Stargazer and merely be your husband and sword arm,” Sirius said. “As I’ve already said, I really don’t want to go back. Reg loves the place more than I could, anyway.”

“Summerhall is still under construction,” she said, biting her lip. “We’d be at court for long periods of time.”

“Makes it easier to see everyone,” he countered. “Also, to be fair, I’m fairly certain your mother prefers me to fucking Strongboar.”

She laughed. “This is true. I’ll talk to him, then. He’ll be more likely to listen if I speak to him first.” She shot him an amused look. “You’ll likely lose your temper.”

They kept walking, eventually out of earshot.

Dany dropped from the tree, looking pole-axed. “Did that really just happen?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, faintly. “You land alright?”

“A bruise, perhaps, nothing to go to... Rhaenys about,” Dany said, biting her lip before giggling. “Not that I’d want to speak to her about how that happened. Wasn’t Sirius Ser Arthur’s squire?”

Jon nodded. He’d been wildly jealous, even if Sirius was three years older and Jon was too young to learn how to use a sword. “He was always with James Potter, who was always shadowing Lily, so they must have found out then.”

“And never told anyone?” Dany frowned. “The Blacks are Marcher lords, correct?”

Jon nodded. “It was why everyone was surprised he got along with James,” Jon added, trying to remember. “Since the Potters are Dornish.”

“Should we tell Aegon?” Dany asked.

Jon shook his head, trying not to smile. “No, I think he can wait.”

This was going to be interesting.


End file.
